


A Knight in Shining Armor

by Wiebelwiebel



Series: The heart in a whole [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Androids, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Ghouls, Robot Feels, Robots, Sad Robots, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 19:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5714725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wiebelwiebel/pseuds/Wiebelwiebel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for the Fallout Kmeme: Hancock defending Nick after verbal abuse.<br/>Has all the sad robot feels...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Knight in Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my native language and I have no proofreader, sorry! I hope there aren't too many mistakes and that this story is enjoyable.

“What the hell is that filthy thing doing here?!”

That was the first thing he heard when he was about to sit down with Nate and Hancock in a seedy bar in an unnamed settlement. They'd traveled all day in the blistering heat and his two organic companions had longed to wet their whistle. So the bar – seedy or no – was a godsend to them. It would also be a perfect place to gather some intelligence on the rumored serial ghoul-killer that was stalking these grounds.

Nick was used to the verbal abuse. It happened often enough in places where he went on monthly basis, so it was bound to happen when he showed his mug in a place where no-one had ever seen the likes of him. Still, much to his dismay, the words still hurt. It reminded him of what he was. A machine, a robot mimicking a human being. A piece of discarded junk that crawled out of a trash heap with someone else's memories and nothing to call his own. He sighed, the act of doing so not so much needed but calming nonetheless. He tried to let the harsh words roll off his shoulders as he sat down. Ignoring it was the best course of action in these sort of situations.

His companions, though, halted halfway sitting down – standing in an awkward pose that would be funny in any other situation.

“Just ignore it,” Nick mumbled, trying to coax his friends to sit down and not make the situation worse, “It's nothing this old bot hasn't heard before.”

Unfortunately the antagonist, a burly man covered with scars, wasn't done.

“Hey! I was talking to you! What is that disgusting thing doing here?! It's ruining my appetite!”

Nick couldn't help but flinch. God, he'd heard it so many times. Why did it still affect him? Of course, Nate and Hancock saw it, still frozen in position. He could see Nate's hand on the chair quiver minutely. This could turn ugly real fast.

“Sit down guys, it's not worth it.” He tried again, touching the sole survivor's arm.

Really, it wasn't worth getting into a fight for. They could get hurt over something as silly as a little name-calling – he'd prefer that the only thing that got hurt was his feelings.

Still the abuse wouldn't stop. The guy kept yelling.

“How can you stand being around at it! Look at that filthy synth! You can even see the wires! And what's wrong with it's poor excuse for a skin! Disgusting! It's like the Institute didn't even try with that one!”

The patrons of the bar just stared, doing nothing. If anything, they found it entertaining. Some even seemed to support the sentiment and made small sounds of agreement. Nick couldn't help but looking down at the table, shrinking under the negative attention.

Maybe it was the long day, or maybe it was because a good diagnostic scan was long overdue. But somehow the words and the general attitude got more to him then usual. It also wasn't helping that his friends were witnessing this. He felt ashamed and diminished and wanted nothing more then to just leave. A dark part of him even agreed with the insults hurled his way – there was a grain of truth in them.

Nate was clutching the table and began to straighten up, protective anger radiating from him.

There was a loud clatter clatter as a chair was violently tossed to the ground…

The attention of everybody in the bar went to the source. Even the burly man was quiet for a second.

Hancock was standing upright, his face unreadable and shaded by his tricorn. He wasn't a large man, but at that moment his presence was one to be reckoned with – every bit the mayor of Goodneighbor you didn't want to mess with. His posture was tense and dangerous.

The ghoul slowly got into motion, taking purposeful strides towards the antagonist. If Nick wanted to object, the words died in his throat as he beheld his friend. There was nothing that could stop him from whatever he was about to do. Nate, on the other hand, relaxed minutely as Hancock advanced.

Patrons of the bar instinctively got out of the way as Hancock walked by; lowering their gaze and suddenly very preoccupied with their drinks. The burly man, however, obviously lacked any survival-instinct.

“Hah, what? Is that thing your pet? You might be a ghoul, but even your kind has standards! At least you were human once – can't be said about that sy….”

He didn't get to say anymore as Hancock's fist violently connected with his face. There was a loud, crunching noise as teeth went flying. The man toppled backwards, hitting a table in the process, and crumpled to the floor – knock out.

Hancock turned around, his red coat swishing. He strode back towards Nate, who was staring with an open mouth and Nick, who was blinking rapidly as if not getting what'd just happened. He grabbed the detective by the arm and hoisted him up, pulling him against his body.

“Nate, I'm taking Nicky to our room. Can you handle things here?”

Nate grinned widely and slapped Hancock's back. “You betcha, Mr. Mayor!”

The ghoul nodded once and pulled the stunned synth along as they left the bar. He didn't say a word as he lead Nick back towards their rented room, pulling him along and refusing to let go of his elbow. Nick was to dumb-struck to object. Only when the door slammed shut behind them, did Hancock let go. He turned around and gave the detective a good look-over.

“You okay?”

Nick blinked, “You didn't have to do that...”

“Yes I did. I promised myself I would never stand by and watch, ever again. That asshole deserved to get his ass kicked. You mess with my friends, you mess with me.”

There was nothing Nick could say. Nothing except: “Thanks, John.”

Hancock smiled and patted his shoulder. “You're welcome, Nicky.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really considering continuing this one; making it more and more shippy as the story about the ghoul serial-killer continues. 
> 
> What do you guys think? Should I continue the story?
> 
> Thanks!


End file.
